


Restart the Game

by DickBaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Sam, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Coming In Pants, Cunnilingus, Demon Dean, Exhibitionism, F/M, Mark of Cain, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, Pegging, Power Bottom Sam, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Wincest, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DickBaggins/pseuds/DickBaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam was a teenager, Dean spurned his clumsy advances and Sam's never really let that go, even with all of Hell to rule and the world at his feet. With the help of his best knight, Sam's going to show Dean what he's been missing all these years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restart the Game

“So, does your brother know?”

Sam swallows, looking from Abaddon to his brother kneeling in chains beside her. Been months since he's seen Dean. He's been watching him, sure, but not in person. He could do many a sneaky trick but being invisible wasn't one of them. Besides, since Dean's eyes went black, since he got that thing on his arm, he'd probably sense Sam. Or something. Wasn't worth the risk. So Sam sent his knight instead, his favourite. She was murder. And she knew all about the mark on Dean's arm, marking his soul. And she knew all about Sam too. He was decidedly too close to her.

But Sam doesn't answer. He doesn't have to, technically. He could dismiss his knight with the sweep of an arm and he _should_ , probably but she's brought him Dean and there needs to be a reward for that. He's in good shape too, Sam notices, walking down off his dais and covering the distance in two long strides. He kind of misses the green eyes, he thinks, grasping at his brother's chin, tilting his head up.

But it's still Dean.

And he's still kind of a dick.

“What's she know that I don't, Sammy? Huh?” Dean snarls up at Sam.

 _Sammy_. So long. Since he's heard it that despite the tone, Sam swears his heart melts.

“Cause, if I'm supposed to be surprised that you two are fucking,” Dean continues, “Well, I'm not. Pretty obvious. Look at you, kiddo. Course she'd want on that. Kinda regret not taking you up on that whole thing way back when.”

Sam tightens his grip and clenches his jaw, sees fucking red. Always has to bring that up, can't ever let it go. Fucking Dean. Never takes much to get Sam feeling like that rejected child again, even with an empire and armies and the entire underworld under his belt.

But...there is something different in how Dean's looking at him. Like maybe he's serious. Like he's checking Sam out and not hiding it, like he used to. What an ass.

Sam digs his nails into Dean's chin and looks over at his knight; she's all raised eyebrows and a firm grip on Dean's chains, eyes sweeping over him the same way his brother's just did. “No,” he answers her, finally, not even answering the same question probably, but it's close enough, “No, Dean doesn't know . Dean's never gonna get to know.”

“Aw jeez, you two are fucking ridiculous,” Dean sputters around Sam's strong hand, “Just fucking tell me.”

Sam smirks back down at his brother and in a second, they're all in a different room and Dean's chained to a post, disoriented and muted and rattling his bonds and Abaddon's already taking her clothes off. Sam watches, perches on the long dark couch beside where Dean's fixed to a post in the floor and pointedly ignores his brother's silent protests in favour of his favourite knight. Because fuck his brother. He deserves this frustration.

Abaddon usually goes slower than this; there's usually a long languid reveal, a show that gets Sam hard and leaking before she ever touches him but this is different. She's tugged her boots off and tossed them hastily away already, shuffling out of her pants and panties in one go. She strips off her shirt and pushes Sam back on the couch in the same motion, kneeling astride him, shoving her tits at his face.

Sam doesn't mind the speed though and her tone is pitch perfect; the fast the better. He one-hands her bra off fast, makes it disappear and makes damn sure Dean's still watching while he cups at her breasts, squeezes the heavy weight through his fingers. Her nails scratch through his hair and it always gives him goosebumps. He could sink into that forever, the shivery sharpness and the soft, white flesh under his tongue, the stiff rosy nipples filling up his mouth, but he grabs her waist and flips them, just a bit closer to Dean. Close enough that he can hear his brother's heavy breathing and half-hearted struggles. Good.

Sam tugs his shirt off while Abaddon hums appreciatively, sliding her hands up and down his legs and then up his chest and back down in a slow, sharp drag that makes Sam groan and arch.

“So it's this, hm? This is what you want your brother to see?” She grips at his thighs and smirks red and wide. “Want him to see what he's been missing out on?”

“Yeah,” Sam snarls, speeds things up by grabbing Abaddon's right hand at the wrist and latching it onto his waistband. He loves that rough laugh she makes while she undoes his pants, loves that fucking smug look on her hard, gorgeous face. “Dean's gonna sit there and fucking _watch_. Forever.”

“Lucky boy,” Abaddon croons, sliding Sam's fly down wile she turns to look at Dean, still trussed and squirming, screaming silent. “You really should have said yes, Dean. I've _never_ had a lover like your brother. He's just so...hungry and needy, like a starved little puppy. Because _someone_ didn't love him enough.”

It's true, but Sam doesn't like hearing it. He growls, “Enough,” and slides down smoothly onto the floor, shouldering Abaddon's legs apart. Years ago, he would have considered it a waste of his talents to _conjure_ things but these days, it's just about the most useful party trick; he blinks and concentrates and bam, there's a lube bottle on the floor beside him and the prettiest red leather harness beside Abaddon, almost in front of Dean. Sam catches his brother staring at it and flushing red at the thing, the perfectly realistic dildo that juts out of it, the skin blushed pink, just like the knight's pussy offered up right in front of Sam. He loves how they match, how the red leather looks slung around her pale, full hips.

And he could just dive in to that with minimal prep; he doesn't really need that much of it anymore, but he really wants to make Dean writhe, make him regret his life choices. So Sam moans too loud and shuffles his pants off, angles his ass towards Dean and spreads his legs, no qualms about being fully on display. Not a one. He teases his index finger dry while he mouths along Abaddon's thigh, biting down hard until she wriggles and yelps, and then he noses at the dark red hair above her slit, breathes it in. The smell her wetness and it makes him fucking drool, makes him nudge her folds apart without thought and curl his tongue against her, desperate for the taste. He wants more even while it floods over his tongue and he presses her legs open wider, presses his mouth harder, tonguing deeper, coaxing until she's dripping on his face.

Sam doesn't technically have to breathe, but he comes up anyway, grinning at Dean with a sticky face, just making sure he's still watching. And he is. Dean is _rapt_ , not tugging at the chains anymore, sagging into his confinement with his mouth a little slack. His eyes are back to green. Sam briefly wishes he'd stripped him but this is probably more torture for Dean, what with the telling ridge in his jeans. It just makes Sam grin wider.

He grabs for the lube and doesn't waste more time, he can't, relaxing his body and pressing his index finger inside himself while he does the same with Abaddon. She arches against him and he sinks his face down into her pussy again, tonguing onto her clit, sweeping wide strokes around it until the firm flesh is pulsing under his tongue, until her hands are pulling at his long hair, always too hard but he needs it like that. Needs to feel it, how much she needs it, needs _him_.

Abaddon's legs drape over his shoulders, heels digging into his back muscles. “More,” she shudders out, and he never has to ask what, exactly; he slips in two fingers, both into her tight slick heat and into his own ass, fucking in unison, slow and twisting for a while.

His dick's nearly painful, the head rubbing against her soft leg, slicking up her shin with precome. He wonders if Dean can see it, if he's getting a good enough view. And then, once he adds a third finger into both holes, there's not much more thinking for a while.

Abaddon's humping at his face, hard enough that all he can do is stay still while she fucks his mouth. He makes his lips tight, flattens his tongue against her clt and presses and moans, and then she does too, her flesh umping and twitching under his tongue, her whole cunt contracting against him, around his fingers and in his mouth and her nails fucking dig in so hard, it feels like he's being scalped.

Sometimes he comes just from that, from having her come on his face. Sometimes that's the best way to play it because then she'll fuck him with he strap on for a long _long_ time without him popping right away. But not this time. This time he wants that, wants to come quick with her inside, wants to show Dean how good it could have been.

Abaddon doesn't waste time either; she pulls off Sam's face with a shudder rippling through her body, one hand lazily flicking over her tits while she reaches for the harness, barely moving to slide it on. Sam doesn't bother moving out of the way, wrapping his soaked hand around the thick, lifelike shaft, stroking it hard so it rocks back against Abaddon, so she gasps and tries to twitch away, obviously oversensitive. “Just get on it,” she breathes out, her hand joining Sam's at the base.

One more thing, though. He turns his head towards Dean and catches his eyes again; it's all longing, thick and heavy between them and Sam thinks _good_ again while he opens his mouth wide around the dick in front of him, relaxing and sinking down all the way. It's always been easy for him to take most any cock down his throat, being so big and so in control, so determined. His eyes water but he keeps them open, keeps them locked on his brother while he swallows the dick even at the slightly awkward angle, until his nose is pressed against Abaddon's smooth skin and her hands are in his hair again.

The look on Dean's face, just that look, might be worth all of it. He almost looks like he's going to cry and his hips rock against nothing, his arms twisting in the chains again, just a bit, just enough to signal his discomfort His eyes veer endlessly between Sam's mouth and his eyes and the fingers working into his hole.

“See?” Abaddon sighs out, tugging Sam off her dick, keeping his head twisted towards Dean while she lubes up properly. “You _really_ missed out. And that's not even the best part.”

Sam smirks and tugs himself free of her grip easily, standing up and straddling her, quickly steadying the lubed dick before he sinks down. Sometimes he goes slow; this time he does not. The stretch makes him moan loud and rock down faster because he fucking needs it _now_.

Abaddon grabs at his ass and spreads him open wider, rubbing her fingers along his stretched hole. And then she pushes her hips up and bottoms out and hums happily, grabbing the fake balls, rubbing those against Sam's ass too. “Take it so good,” she mutters against his chest, scraping her teeth along his pecs, over his nipple until he gasps.

Sam doesn't wait to get used to the thick weight inside of him; he drapes over Abaddon and pulls up and sinks back down in the same second and fuck, the thing is big, always feels huge inside him, warm and perfect and the mot beautiful seamless extension of Abaddon. She tilts her hips just the right amount so it brushes hard against his prostate with every thrust, making his dick twitch and blurt messy precome between them.

He can't even think of the _lesson_ , the crap he was trying to prove to Dean, not like this. Sam buries his face in Abaddon's neck and fucks himself on her dick endlessly, fast and needy, watching her alabaster fingers, red tipped, squeeze around his dick and blur with speed. Finally. He shudders when she pumps him, fast and slick and he's sweating and panting, bouncing on her like he's done it a thousand times before, which is kind of a lowball estimate.

Sam could draw it out easy; he could spend hours fucking himself on Abaddon's beautiful dick with an astounding amount of self-control but...no. Not today. He picks up the pace until he's breathless and his heart is hammering, head thrown back with his hair dripping sweat and Abaddon stroking him off while her own breath hitches; he knows she feels every thrust through the warmed up near-flesh appendage but sometimes he swears there's a deeper connection too, somehow, some kind of magical something that he never remembers afterwards. Whatever the fuck it is, neither of them can ever get enough.

“Time to let go, Sam,” Abaddon tells him, low and musical, tightening her hand on his dick while the other rubs at his hole again, squirming one more finger inside along her dick, and then another, letting Sam fuck himself until he's shuddering and erratic.

He feels so fucking full like that, stretched so wide and she repeats herself with more command, and he finally does let go, thrusting down and rocking into her dick and her hands and shouting ragged when he comes. His whole body twitches and clenches, his dick spurting up between them in a messy rush, half on his stomach and more on her tits, the rest in her soft hand because she does not stop stroking him. Probably wouldn't unless he made her stop.

But he won't.

Hell, he might go for a few more hours, because when he finally looks back over at Dean, sees the spreading wet patch on the front of his jeans, the thrilling little stab in his chest is too perfect. He wants to make it happen all fucking day, until his brother's a mess, until he's coming dry in his jeans.

Sam nudges Abaddon, jerks his head towards Dean and she laughs, clear and loud. Dean flushes the darkest red Sam's ever seen on him, squirming again in his bonds but there's nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

“See what you missed?” Abaddon teases, turning laughing back to Sam, raking her nails through the mess on his chest, slicking up her fingers with it and stuffing them into Sam's mouth. “Missed a lot, Dean. We're gonna show you everything, don't you worry.”

Sam grins around the fingers, cleans them off with showy twirls of his tongue, savouring his own taste, intent on making Dean regret a good deal more in a very short time.

 

 


End file.
